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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28264962">Whispering Trees</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orei_lee/pseuds/orei_lee'>orei_lee</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>/roleplay, Canon Divergent, Dream is a villain, Ghostbur, Protective Eret, Runaway AU, They find each other, Toby Smith | Tubbo and TommyInnit Run Away, Toby Smith | Tubbo-centric, Tschlatt, because I say so, big brother eret vibes, give ghostbur his own tag 2020, good guy techno, hes so soft, he’s a literal child, he’s so soft I can’t, hybrid tubbo, not together tho, tommyinnit runs away, tubbo deserves a break, tubbo fakes his death, tubbo runs away, witch eret</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:46:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,007</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28264962</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orei_lee/pseuds/orei_lee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He never wanted to be president. He was still a kid for Christ’s sake, he never got a chance to have a normal childhood. He’s always fought for others, followed what others believed in. Wars, cabinets, betrayals- it’s always been for other people. He just needs a break.</p><p>So, Tubbo does the only thing that would give him just that.<br/>He fakes his own death.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream &amp; Toby Smith | Tubbo, Eret &amp; Toby Smith | Tubbo, Jschlatt &amp; Toby Smith | Tubbo, Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; Technoblade, Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; Wilbur Soot, no romantic relationships!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>330</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Whispering Trees</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>very cannon divergent!! I am in ✨pain✨ after the exile and I’m afraid of what’ll happen next in the theseus arc, so I’m writing this to cope</p><p>this takes place before tommy was exiled!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He was so <em>tired</em>. </p><p>It was so obvious, from the way his eyes lowered and his body became sluggish, or the constant purple bags underneath his eyes contrasting his blue orbs. But no matter how tired he was, sleep would never come. The president spent countless nights staring up at his ceiling, both before he'd taken the reigns in the cabinet and now. Thinking. Sleepless nights began when he became a mole in his own country, where he'd been thinking too hard about getting caught by <em>him</em>. Overthinking did nothing, because in the end, he was found out. And he was killed because of it. <em>His first life</em>. It wasn't <em>fair</em>, sure, but he insisted that it was okay, just to ease his best friends worries. </p><p>Though, he'd been trying to calm himself down as well. If he kept saying that he was fine, it'd come true, right? </p><p>It didn't. </p><p>He rarely got any sleep after then, worse than before. Whether he'd been trapped in his own thoughts, or listening to the low, nearly silent mumblings of their former leader. Wilbur. He went insane, and he knew why Tommy didn't like sleeping in the same room then. </p><p>He refuted sleep until the fay of the attack, the day they confronted the second president. Someone he...knew, before all of this, someone he'd forgotten about. Schlatt died right in front of him, and he didn't get a chance to ask questions. It wasn't <em>fair</em>. Not even an hour later, and he'd found himself appointed president. Did he even want to be? He told himself he did, that he wanted to make the nation better, rebuild it from the chaos it once was. </p><p>He died for the second time that day, betrayed by the same ally who killed him first. It was kind of poetic, in a way, not meaning the whole speech Technoblade had made. No, he was killed by someone he trusted, even after he'd been shot. Then, the ground blew up. </p><p>It burned. It really, really burned. More scars to add to his body. Hell, he was only sixteen at the time, and his body was littered with so many burns and discolorations, he could be a monster if he really stared. </p><p>After that, he was left alone. Well, as alone as he's always been. He had his best friend, the previous cabinet, and the entire nation helping rebuild L'Manburg. Except Wilbur, he'd think darkly. Killed right in front of the children he once lead into battle. Someone he idolized in a way. Gone. </p><p>Until he came back. Weeks into his presidency, Wilbur was back- an amnesiac, sure, and a ghost who was too positive for anyone- but he was back. Not to help, though.</p><p>Tubbo was still alone. He was still tired. </p><p>It's really not fair. </p><p>Two years. Two years, Tubbo had fought in a war he shouldn't have been in. A war he only went into because he wanted to help his best friend. One year later, hell broke lose, and he was forced to watch it break apart. Six months later, and he was rebuilding the ashes. </p><p>He's never been allowed a break. </p><p>Sure, he's had days where he can sit for a moment or two, sit on the bench he loved so dearly, and relish in the calming aura his loud friend gave off. But ever since he'd been appointed power, not only was Tubbo being pulled from left and right, trying to help whoever needed it- but he'd been compared to Schlatt so, so many times. It hurt. It hurt really bad, honestly, when he made one mistake, or made one decision most didn't agree with. There were no more friendly arguments, or trying to bargain or making new points to suggest to Tubbo and <em>help</em> him. </p><p>They called him Schlatt when he didn't meet their greedy expectations. They called him Schlatt when he wasn't the bright, loving boy twenty-four seven. They called him Schlatt when he got angry over people blatantly disrespecting him, because to them, that was normal. Tubbo wasn't someone people acknowledged as a leader. Tubbo was a follower. Tubbo fought for other people, not himself. Tubbo let his opinion change because it's what his friends thought. Tubbo was a sheep his entire lift with the nation, of course they didn't respect his position. </p><p>Because he was Tubbo, whatever people said was true, and he was the one in the wrong for making his own decisions. </p><p>And frankly, he was tired of it. </p><p>So, so tired. </p><p>-------</p><p>It'd been weeks since anyone's encountered Dream. Tubbo could feel his chest lighten, just a little bit, knowing that finally, his nation had a break. </p><p>It's what put him in a good mood that day. </p><p>It's the reason why he'd been smiling, the last smile anyone in L'Manburg would see on him in a long, long time. </p><p>Tubbo had been walking into a meeting that sunny morning, the soft smile on his lips making him look so much younger. Like he was supposed to look. He watched as his cabinet perked up, three sets of eyes staring at him. Waiting. He sat down next to Tommy, underdressed per usual, who instantly leaned against Tubbo's chair to practically hang off his best friend. <em>At least his clinginess never changed</em>, Tubbo thought almost in relief. The last good thought he'd have until the meeting was over. </p><p>He didn't remember how it happened, but they were arguing. <em>He</em> was arguing. About the nation? Surely that's it, what else is there besides that. Nothing else mattered other than rebuilding their home. </p><p>Not his, not anymore. </p><p>Tubbo was yelling. Was he? He remembers it was loud, he remembers Big Q was in his face, and Tommy only hesitantly pulled him off the president. </p><p>He remembers Fundy's disappointed face, the anger radiating off Quackity. Why was he angry? Tubbo had to get stern with his words, he remembers that, because they just weren't listening. They wanted to go off and cause some mayhem, but the nation was finally at peace. They were finally safe, and there were finally no wars. Tubbo didn't want anyone to get hurt again, so why? Why were they so angry at him? </p><p>Until they hit him where it hurt the most. While it'd never been said directly to his face, Tubbo knew they compared him to the last president. He's heard the whispers. He wasn't an idiot, for christs sake. </p><p>He knew it was coming. But when Quackity had been staring at him dead in the eyes, the older boy practically looming over the president as if he was caging him in again- <em>again, again not again please it's too cramped</em>- and practically spat out the words, Tubbo could feel himself crumble. </p><p>
  <em>"You're just like fucking Schlatt, you know that?"</em>
</p><p>Was he? </p><p>Was he truly so terrible? </p><p>Was all of this for nothing? Did he fight, did he die, just to become the villain? </p><p>He remembers his name being called out, but Tubbo didn't care. He doesn't remember leaving, but soon enough he was slumped under a tree out in the woods, unable to breath. </p><p>Breath, he told himself. He couldn't breath. </p><p>Tubbo couldn't <em>breath</em>. </p><p>He begged, and he weeped, and he gasped for air and tried with all his might to come back. To ground himself. It didn't work. He was alone. Tubbo was so, so alone, and he was so tired and hurt and he couldn't do this anymore he couldn't stay he couldn't breath he can't breath and-</p><p>Oh. Eret was there. When did he get there? Eret hugged him. Tubbo really, really needed a hug, and he let himself indulge in the protective embrace of the king. Eret was speaking, but Tubbo couldn't hear. Not for a while, only when his sobs calmed down and his chest could rise and fall again did he hear the soft, soothing words being mumbled above him. Tubbo, only a child, still a child, hadn't had such a comforting embrace in so long. It felt nice. </p><p>Tubbo had been the first to trust Eret again after everything that happened. The older man was clearly in his own sorrows, ashamed of the betrayal he'd done, ashamed of all the people he hurt. Tubbo could tell. He was wary, but Tubbo accepted his apology. Perhaps that's why he trusted Eret now, more than anyone in his own cabinet, to cry in front of. </p><p>It felt like hours had gone by before Tubbo felt strong enough to wiggle free of Eret's hug. </p><p>"I can't do this anymore," Tubbo had mumbled without looking at the face of the other man. He's hasn't felt this small in a while- well, he really is tiny compared to the adult- but he was supposed to be president. He was supposed to be strong, like his always is, keeping a smile on and humbling his friends. He shouldn't be shaking like a leaf, knelt on the grass with once an enemy, a king, a <em>friend</em>.</p><p>But Eret hugged him again. And he didn't just feel small. </p><p>Tubbo felt <em>safe</em>. </p><p>He burrowed his head into the taller mans shoulder, careful to keep his horns at an angle to not press at is skin, relishing in the comforting embrace of a brotherly figure. The first war, Eret had been so supportive of Tubbo, complimenting his skills for such a young age, just like a proud family member would. He helped train him to be <em>better</em>. Maybe that's why the betrayal hurt Tubbo more than the rest. Maybe that's why he forgave him the rest. One thing was clear, though- Eret has never once doubted Tubbo. The only one who's never doubted Tubbo. It felt so, so nice. </p><p>A hand brushed his hair, and Tubbo relaxed, practically melting in the hug. He was so stiff, relaxing so much all at once caused the rush of stress and tiredness to hit him all at once. Eret could practically feel it, too. "What can I do to help...?" Came the deep voice of the other. <em>Help</em>, Tubbo thought. It was a nice thought. </p><p>The boy shrugged, wiping at his eyes with a sleeve brought up, the roughness of his own hand causing his vision to blur. "I...I want to leave..." Tubbo whispered. But he knew he couldn't just leave, not when he had a nation to manage. No matter how much it hurt, he couldn't just up and leave, they'd just hunt him down- they'd call him a traitor. </p><p>That's when the idea hit. </p><p>
  <em>Tubbo could fake his own death. </em>
</p><p>"P-Potions, you- you know how to make them, right?" Tubbo sputtered quickly, nervously, sitting up once again to stare into the sunglasses casing his friends eyes. He could see confusion in the older mans brow, before Eret nodded once. "Is- are there any that could...one that could bring me back- or, not kill me, but I-I'd look dead and feel dead- but I wake up- o-or potions that fake it maybe-" His rambling was cut short when Eret held up a hand. </p><p>"Whoa, whoa, calm down- you want to do <em>what</em>?" He muttered worriedly, staring at the young president. "Tubbo, those are...extremely dangerous. Magic that even witches don't use." Oh. Tubbo forgot the extent of Eret's knowledge. It'd been stories he heard by a late night campfire, one's only for Tubbo's ears at the time- Eret's life before L'Manburg, a witches apprentice. Of course he knew the 'do's and don'ts' of potions. "One wrong step, and you could die-"</p><p>Tubbo stared at him with a pleading, broken look. This was his last chance, the only idea reasonable enough to work. His friends wouldn't look for him. He could be alone. He could be free, find lands far away and make himself anew. </p><p>Eret could see it in his eyes, and after a seconds contemplation, he let out a sigh of defeat. </p><p>"It...It might take a few days to make. Can you wait just a little longer?"</p><p>One nods confirmation sealed Tubbo's fate. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>lemme know what you guys think! tubbo's character is a huge comfort kin of mine, so i may be projecting just a little bit-</p></blockquote></div></div>
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